


Ghost of the Machine

by euromagpie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, errrr, i guess a bit of mystery suspense thing going on, its a weirdly specific au yanno, its sorta weird but still mostly star wars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:05:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5868769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euromagpie/pseuds/euromagpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhat AU - Anakin and his ex-Master Qui-Gon, on the run from the Empire, crashland on a mysterious poisoned planet. When Anakin meets the machine that is keeping the planet alive, everything changes. Still SW!Universe but w/ major changes including age-changing. Obi Ani central. not romo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost of the Machine

Anakin peeled open his eyes with a pained groan, trying to see through the blur that obscured anything farther away than a few centimetres. He blinked again and suddenly a harsh pain in his shoulders was asking him politely for attention. As was the blood rushing to his head. And his queasy stomach that was trying to make a swift exit through his oesophagus.  He turned his head slightly with a grimace and the fuzz cleared slightly.

 _Oh_.

Anakin was abruptly brought to the realisation that he was in fact hanging upside down, pushing against the straps of his seat. Their plane must have…crashed? It was as good a bet as any, considering it was, well, _Anakin._ Talking about ‘they’, though…

“Master?” He croaked out, his voice falling flat in the warm cabin.

“Ah, good, you’re awake.” Anakin swung his head to the other side and saw his ex-Master, calmly sitting cross-legged on the upside down windshield, now smushed deeply into what looked like a puddle of mud.

 _What a bastard_.

“Thanks for helping me out here, Qui-Gon, really appreciate it.” Anakin drawled, already fumbling for the straps with clumsy fingers.

“Considering it was your flying that landed us here in the first place, I would re-consider my tone if I were y-“

He was cut off by Anakin finally undoing his seatbelt, falling the short distance to the roof-turned-floor of the cockpit, and letting out a rather vulgar exclamation. Qui-Gon brushed his hair back and sighed as Anakin picked himself up and righted himself. He stumbled once from the blood rush.

“Yes, well you’re _not_ me, so spare me your condescending speeches, Qui-Gon. You have no right to give them anymore, if you remember, old man.” He glared at Qui-Gon. It took a second but he forced down the quick surge of irritation.

 _Sith_ , he really _missed_ Snips at times like these. Sure, his apprenticeship to Qui-Gon had been like a dream come true, at first. Then his teenage years hit, and suddenly everything the man did grated on him. Both were the type to never apologise first, to let old arguments stew and seethe and bubble over into sarcasm. By the time Anakin had been knighted, just in time for the Wars to begin, they could barely stand to work together on missions – Anakin thought he knew better, but oh ho ho, Qui-Gon _always knew_ better. He never gave Anakin the respect he deserved. Even now, on the run from the Imperial troops, with Anakin older and wiser, having fought in a war side by side for _three years_ , he _still_ tried to lecture Anakin like he was a young boy trying to sneak speeder parts into their apartment.

It wasn’t just irritating, it was _humiliating_.

If only Snips were here to mediate things like she’d done on their many combined missions during the war. But no, Snips was…well. Snips certainly was _somewhere_ , somewhere he couldn’t follow.

Anakin moved to the viewport, trying to see where he’d…enthusiastically landed their craft, trying to ignore Qui-Gon’s put-out sigh in the background.

Outside turned out to be, uh, not much. Some kind of damp marshy ground with darker shapes dotting the blue-green landscape. Grey mist surrounded the whole area. Anakin thought they might be in some kind of forest-swamp _thing_.

He tried to reach out with the Force-

-And immediately recoiled. Everything was _dead_. Dead or dying, from the animals to the trees, to the plants on the ground. This place was practically a graveyard.

Wait, no. _There_ , something living, several somethings, moving in an organised fashion towards their ship. Anakin withdrew from the Force and turned to see Qui-Gon rummaging through a nearby box.

“Several life-forms moving towards out position; probably intelligent, not troopers at least. Any idea where we landed?” He wouldn’t enquire as to what Qui-Gon was doing; the old man would probably just obfuscate his answer to irritate him and he wasn’t in the mood to play mind-games with the man.

Qui-Gon took his sweet time answering, finally turning back with something in each hand. Looked to be gas-masks of some kind.

“I don’t know exactly where we are, what with your erratic hyperspace jumps, but we seem to be somewhere in the far outer rim. Take one of these – I set what scanners work to do a basic scan of this planet. Preliminary results suggest air toxic to humans, so I would suggest you wear this with only minimal complaining.”

Anakin took a calming breath before taking one of the masks. Unlike their rebreathers, the masks covered the entire face, making Anakin feels hot and claustrophobic the second he put it on. He didn’t say anything even remotely sarcastic, which he was almost proud of.

The Force prodded him.

“Qui-Gon, they’re her-“

A quiet knock resounded through the cabin.

Anakin and Qui-Gon looked at each other in bewilderment. They’d never crash-landed anywhere were natives _knocked_ on doors. Sith, considering their track record, natives were more likely to shoot, impale and torture first and then maybe if they were lucky, ask questions later. Anakin was stumped.

Qui-Gon nodded his head.

“Well, aren’t you going to welcome our guests?” He asked. Anakin scowled.

“Why don’t _you_ go do it? I’m not your sla-“

“ _Anakin_.”

“Tch.”

Anakin gave in, stomping his way out of the cockpit and through the tiny corridor that led to the boarding ramp. That’s where the tapping was coming from. Everything being upside down, Anakin had to carefully step over wiring and loose ceiling panels to make it to the ramp that was above him. It was slightly dented in.

He loosely gripped his lightsaber in a ready position, before using the Force to open the hatch just enough to see the newcomers.

 

Scrap that, to see the _silhouette_ of the newcomers. Even against the dismal grey background, the figures seemed amorphous and dark, crouching around the now square hold, peering curiously inside. They didn’t seem to have human faces.

“Hello.”

Anakin jerked – the voice had sounded human enough, and spoke at least passable Basic he could tell, even from just one word.

“Are you alright? We saw your ship come down – do you need assistance?” Another shadow asked, again in that very passable Basic dialect, though the heavy accent and clipped vowels suggested it wasn’t their native tongue. Were they closer to the mid-rim than Qui-Gon had thought?

“Young man?”

He suddenly snapped out of his reverie, finding is tongue to answer.

“Ah, yes. Yes, out ship crash-landed. I don’t think it’s going to fly for a while.” He answered. The shadows crouched close for a moment and then whispered to one another. One broke apart.

“May I come inside?” It asked. He considered for a moment before reluctantly nodding, lightsaber hidden behind his back but with his finger ready to press the button. He wanted to hide the fact that they were Jedi for as long as possible, but better safe than sorry.

The shadow moved and nimbly dropped through the hatch, onto the up-turned ceiling. In the dim light of the corridor, Anakin could see he’d been mistaken in his original impression. The figure before him most definitely _was_ human; a human wrapped up in many layers of cloth and with a similar ask to himself covering his entire face. Not a bit of skin could be seen – even the mask eye holes were darkened.

“I am Ku-Rai Ishiro. I am the representative of Yoirein. You are close to the capitol if you need to rest and repair your ship.” He offered. Ku-Rai bowed low, both hands spread to the side with his palms upwards. Some sort of greeting, probably.

They didn’t _seem_ harmful, Anakin thought. But then, that’s always how these things go – the locals are nice, the food is good, then _BAM_ , your drink is spiked and you’re strung up with a virboblade wedged between your third and fourth ribs.

On the other hand, they didn’t really have much choice in this situation. He and his ex-Master had landed themselves on an unidentified planet, with an unusable ship, minimal rations, no more funds and no Snips. It was a disaster all-around.

Quite frankly, if this _was_ a trap, Anakin could see no way to proceed but to spring it.

“ We would be very grateful for your assistance.” He answered, sneakily stashing his lightsaber out of sight and doing his best to return the gesture (even if he did feel a bit foolish).

Even with no facial features on display, Ku-Rai seemed to smile.

“Very good. We can provide you and any additional passengers with transport now and return for your ship in the morning. Oh, and before leaving your ship, you should make sure to cover yourself – everywhere. Any prolonged exposure to our atmosphere and you’ll regret it…briefly.”

“Only briefly?” Anakin asked with a raised brow.

“Yes. Then you’ll be dead.” _Ah_.

“Right. I’ll be sure to pass the message along.” The figure nodded and turned, ready to give orders to his comrades. Quickly, Anakin caught his arm.

“One more thing – what’s the name of this planet?”

Ku-Rai looked at him with another invisible smile.

“You, my friend, are standing atop the ghost of Stewjon.”


End file.
